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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773564">Substation Four is Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose'>HolRose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Guess the Author ficlets [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(referred to) - Freeform, Asexuality Spectrum, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Aziraphale's True Form (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's True Form (Good Omens), Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demisexual Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Metaphysical Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:21:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Employees of UK Power are puzzled at something odd that has happened on an otherwise ordinary evening in Soho. In a local bookshop, two otherworldly beings are holding hands.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Guess the Author ficlets [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2266376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SOSH - Guess the Author #11 "Firsts"</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>UK Power provides London with its electricity.</p><p>Written for the SOSH Discord Server Guess The Author prompt #11 'Firsts'</p><p>CW - reference to the pubs being closed at the moment in London, no reason given, just in case that worries anyone.</p><p>I have added an extended version of this fic in a second chapter, so it might be best to read that version. I found I wasn't able to do everything I wanted to within the word limit for the Guess The Author event.</p><p>All comments and kudos are very much welcomed.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>UK Power HQ, West Chelmsford</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Dennis? It’s Wilf, we’ve had a call, all of south central’s out…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, looks like Sub Four is down…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know…”</p><p> </p><p>“Well don’t blame me mate… yeah, ahuh. I know, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not since the forties…yeah, bit of a first, that, normally sound as a pound down that way…”</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s on call?… Uhuh…”</p><p> </p><p>“Lesley and Hilary… Right. They live ‘round there, yeah? Soho way. Just looking them up now, I’ll give them a bell. While I’m on, how’s the wife?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah? Nice. Awright mate, good to talk, catchya later, maybe get that pint, ya know, once the pubs are open again…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you too mate. Cheers.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Crowley opened his eyes to find the river water blue-green of Aziraphale’s gaze steady upon him. A final spark of connection arced lazily between their linked fingers, dying away as his consciousness fully returned into his body.</p><p> </p><p>It was very dark in the bookshop, what he could see was visible only because Aziraphale was glowing gently. He smirked happily, a sleepy slow upturn of lips, and was rewarded with one of Aziraphale’s very best sunshine smiles.</p><p> </p><p>“That was…”</p><p> </p><p>“Quite. It really was, wasn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“At least we didn’t, errrm, explode, or anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“I beg to differ, darling, I think we very much did.”</p><p> </p><p>“…Good point, well made…”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you blushing, dear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shaddup.”</p><p> </p><p>There was silence in the darkened shop. They sat together quietly, fingers warmly linked, their spiritual coupling rendered them both blissfully sated, revelling in the knowledge of their mutual love.</p><p> </p><p>“How did it measure up, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“To what, my love?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I presume you’ve done it before, back when…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no. No, I never …”</p><p> </p><p>“Never?”</p><p> </p><p>“Never felt this…strongly about anyone back then. You’re my first, beloved.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, for me too, angel…and the other way?”</p><p> </p><p>“How do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“The human way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good gracious no. I got myself into enough trouble with all the things I indulged myself in down here. Even if I had wanted to - you remember all the fuss there was about the nephilim - it would have been a very bad idea. Besides…”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re just fishing now, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, angel, out with it, whatever you were going to say.”</p><p> </p><p>“Surely you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“No. Go on, Aziraphale, enlighten me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I realise I’ve never been very good at showing it, but there’s only ever been you, for me, in any way. My first and my last. My everything."</p><p> </p><p>Their hands tightened about each other.</p><p> </p><p>“I feel the same way, angel.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Oh bother, we seem to have…”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gestured. The bookshop brightened. Outside, streetlights flared.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Substation four, Soho</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Wilf, love, I’m here with Lesley…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it was fine, 'course…”</p><p> </p><p>“Thing is, everything’s okay…”</p><p> </p><p>“All the streetlights are on…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not an idiot, nah, we opened her up, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me finish, it’s good, everything's minted, mate…”</p><p> </p><p>“No idea…”</p><p> </p><p>“Just one of those things, I ‘spect, anyway…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we’re off home…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll write it up, send it via email, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Night mate, sleep well.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An expanded version of this fic with more of the content I imagined while I was writing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>UK Power HQ, West Chelmsford</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dennis? It’s Wilf, we’ve had a call, all of south central’s out…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, looks like Sub Four is down…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well don’t blame me mate… yeah, ahuh. I know, right?…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not since the forties…yeah, bit of a first, that, normally sound as a pound down that way…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who’s on call?… Uhuh…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lesley and Hilary… Right. They live ‘round there, yeah? Soho way. Just looking them up now, I’ll give them a bell. While I’m on, how’s the wife?…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah? Nice. Awright mate, good to talk, catchya later, maybe get that pint, ya know, once the pubs are open again…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, you too mate. Cheers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley opened his eyes to find the river water blue-green of Aziraphale’s gaze steady upon him. A final spark of connection arced lazily between their linked fingers, dying away as his consciousness fully returned into his body.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was very dark in the bookshop, what he could see was visible only because Aziraphale was glowing gently. He smirked happily, a sleepy slow upturn of lips, and was rewarded with one of Aziraphale’s very best sunshine smiles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That was…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Quite. It really was, wasn’t it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“At least we didn’t, errrm, explode, or anything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I beg to differ, darling, I think we very much did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Good point, well made…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you blushing, dear?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shaddup.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was silence in the darkened shop. They sat together quietly, fingers warmly linked, the mingling of their true forms, embracing each other without reserve, energy to energy, so that for a moment, there was no distinction between them, had rendered them both blissfully sated, revelling in the knowledge of their mutual love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How did it measure up, then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To what, my love?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I presume you’ve done it before, back when…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh no. No, I never …”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Never?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Never felt this…strongly about anyone back then. You’re my first, beloved.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, for me too, angel…and the other way?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How do you mean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The human way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good gracious no. I got myself into enough trouble with all the things I indulged myself in down here. Even if I had wanted to - you remember all the fuss there was about the nephilim - it would have been a very bad idea. Besides…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re just fishing now, aren’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, angel, out with it, whatever you were going to say.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Surely you know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. Go on, Aziraphale, enlighten me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I realise I’ve never been very good at showing it, but there’s only ever been you, for me, in any way. My first and my last. My everything. I have never loved anyone but you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their hands tightened about each other. Crowley’s heart, lighter than air, gave an additional little leap in his chest. He had waited so long, they both had, but now the waiting was over, they could have this together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I feel the same way, angel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale’s smile could have lit up the city. He drew Crowley into his arms and they embraced. After a while with his face buried in the angel’s curls, breathing in the sweet essence of him, Crowley looked up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s a bit dark in here, angel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh bother,” said Aziraphale, a tiny frown creasing his forehead as he took in the gloom around them as if noticing it for the first time, “we appear to have had some sort of impact on the local utilities.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He raised his hand behind Crowley’s shoulder and gestured. The bookshop brightened. Outside, streetlights flared.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Substation Four, Soho</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wilf, love, I’m here with Lesley…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, it was fine, 'course…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thing is, everything’s okay…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All the streetlights are on…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not an idiot, nah, we opened her up, but…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me finish, it’s good, everything's minted, mate…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No idea…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just one of those things, I ‘spect, anyway…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, we’re off home…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll write it up, send it via email, okay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Night mate, sleep well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lesley took her wife’s hand once they had packed away their tools, and they started the walk back to their flat above the Indian takeaway. They loved living in this area. Soho was a strange place at times, but it had always felt right for her in some way, even more so once she had met Hilary and they had moved-in together, settled down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They walked past the old bookshop on the corner that was usually closed and noticed that even at this late hour, there was still a cosy glow emanating from it. A sense of contentment swelled within her and she squeezed her wife’s hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You alright, babes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, love, peachy. Just happy, that’s all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They smiled at each other. Safe, that was how she felt, safe, and somehow protected and cared for. Just at that moment, despite having been called out of her warm flat late on a blustery autumn evening, she couldn’t possibly have wanted to be anywhere else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am imagining that Aziraphale has kept the electricity working smoothly in the Soho area since the last time the whole local system went down, when he realised he was in love in 1941. :)  &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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